


Supernova

by MoodyAquarius



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angelic Grace, Cas is in trouble, Destiel - Freeform, Everybody is fucked up, Hinted Destiel - Freeform, Love will prevail, M/M, Mark of Cain, Read, Season 9 Spoilers, Stolen Grace, Things will get better, Violence, hi, idk what else to say, lol, then worse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-08 12:36:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1941369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoodyAquarius/pseuds/MoodyAquarius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SEASON 9 SPOILERS<br/>Seriously if you haven't watched Season 9 go away, this will ruin everything.<br/>So, Dean is riddled with the Mark of Cain, he's in bad shape, Cas is being hunted by angry angels and has a stolen grace issue, Sam is trying to be glue for it all. Castiel's stolen grace proves to be a bigger issue than he originally thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Supernova

**Author's Note:**

> This doesn't exactly go with the season 9 plot though I'm using a lot of what is canon, this mainly centers around Cas' stolen grace problem and really delves into what that will mean for him, the consequences of it. WIP. More Destiel will come into play later on, I promise. 
> 
> As always, comments are loved and cherished!   
> Thank you for the read, I appreciate it!!!

“This is the last time I’m going to ask you,” Sam circled around the heat rising off the holy flames surrounding the figure shrouded in shadows thrown off the walls and flickering, dancing flames, “Where is he?” His voice dropped into a deadly range that he only whipped out occasionally. I could always see through it, obviously, but that’s only because I taught him the scary voice.

The bitch cocked her head to the side in a way that was too familiar to be comfortable. Did all angels have that trait? My throat felt dry with bile as I cleared it and demanded, “If you can’t help us, there’s plenty of other douchebags with clipped wings around, so you’ve got thirty seconds, sweet heart.” I felt my lips quirk into an angry smile.

She raised her eyebrows, feigning innocence for a moment, “I haven’t been in contact with my brothers and sisters. Nobody has. It’s impossible.”

“Bull. Shit.”

Sammy thumbed the angel blade in his hand, twirling it in his huge palm. He then threw me a glance, which I nodded to, and he jumped forward with the blade poised at her. She let out a meek little shout, “Stop! Stop, o-okay… last I heard he was in some warehouse, with a bunch of dead angels, and it didn’t look too good for him, so he must have fled. At least I would if I were him, what with a price on his head and all.” Her breath hitched, her chest fluttering. “That’s all I know, I promise.”

Sammy met my gaze, looking satisfied, but I pressed, “That’s all you’ve got? I don’t think that cuts it.”

“That is all I know. If our top angels can’t even find him how do you expect I would?!”

“Fine.” I chewed my lip, not liking any of this. Not liking that Cas didn’t answer prayers anymore, the disappearances, the grace issue, the pricey target on his head, none of it. And the lying, that, I will not tolerate anymore. “See ya later.”

I walked out the door, leaving her in the holy flames. She hollered, “What?! You said you’d let me out! You promised!” I ignored her, hearing Sam’s footsteps behind me and sensing his eyes falling back on the angel and I could practically hear the questions in his head about leaving her there, but he knew better than to push me.

Baby waited faithfully for us outside in the darkness, nearly blending in with the pavement and leaves behind her. The only thing that helped decipher her from the darkness was the reflection of the moon on her sleek, black hood. I cranked the door open, sitting on the upholstery that was more of a home than the home I can hardly remember as the years slip past.

I don’t know how long I’d been caught in that thought before Sammy’s voice interrupted, “Why’d you leave her?”

I pursed my lips, not taking my eyes off the road ahead, “She didn’t tell us everything.”

“I think she did, Dean.” I could feel Sam’s eyes burning into the side of my face, and his big puppy dog eyes that always felt sympathy for the wrong things.

“This is about Cas, Sam. Not her. Until we find Cas…” My mouth became dry suddenly, “Screw the rest.” He didn’t speak up the rest of the drive.

…………………..

‘Cas, you got your ears on?” I threw a glance up at the ceiling, always feeling like an idiot every single time I did this. Sam had long since retired to his room. A small sigh fell out of me.

‘Cas… please.’

I didn’t know what else to say. The bastard knew what I was thinking. He had to know exactly how worried he was making us by this prolonged absence. He wasn’t stupid.

‘Cas, buddy, anything. And yes I’m mad at you, but...’

Why was it so hard?

‘Cas, just… please let me know you’re not dead. Alright? I’m in the dark here. Just talk to me, I need you, tell me something.’

Nothing.

‘Well, goodnight, you ass. Wherever thou art.’ A frown buried itself into my face, and I buried my head into my pillow, hooking my headphones into my ears, hitting shuffle. “Lonely is the Night” started playing and I had to scoff at the irony, looking around in my dark, silent room. Shut up, Billy Squier.

……………….

Weeks kept on passing, no sign of Cas. We kept going about small little cases here and there, with the looming shadow of trouble always hanging over our heads. The absence of Cas never ceased to bother me. Not even the fact that he wasn’t here, that I can handle. The fact that he hasn’t even freaking bothered to answer. Either that, or he’s dead. Some angel caught up to him, and he’s dead.

Sam wasn’t the only one who could tell it was effecting me. Not only the mark of Cain, but Cas missing on top of it. I killed more, and more brutally. And I don’t care. The bloodshed doesn’t phase me. Things that make Sammy cringe don’t make me flinch. We began to leave a trail of dead angels behind us, because I was ruthless. The sick thing is I know exactly what I’m doing, and the fact is that I don’t care.

The death doesn’t matter. I don’t even know if this is about Cas anymore. Maybe it’s nothing to do with him. It’s me, I’m the one who is broken, Cas is obviously either fine without us, or moved on. He wouldn’t lift a finger to even let me know if he’s alive or dead, so I’m the idiot left worrying and it’s my fault. This is what always happens every time I let somebody become important to me.

And I’m done.

“Dean!”

A distant roar sounded miles and miles away. My arms kept moving, tearing and ripping through flesh, I felt the warm liquid on my hands, seeping into my clothes. The screams were long over, the throat completely absent. I continued to tear at the warm flesh of the now corpse lying beneath my murderous hands.

“Dean!” I was yanked back by a strong pull on my shoulders, throwing me backward into a hard wall that was my brother. Sam wrapped his arms around me, holding me back from the mangled, blood battered corpse lying in a ripped apart mess on the ground.

I felt Sam’s ragged, panic-ridden breath, “Dean, what the hell?!”

I pushed myself out of his grip, stumbling a little, looking around the room, disoriented and feeling my arm burning with an acidic heat. It was the Mark. It always heated and howled in pleasure when I killed. Sam shook me, “DEAN!”

“What?”

“What?!” He scoffed, breathlessly, “Do you see what you just did? Are you even awake?”

I glanced down at the mangled body, shrugging, then wiping my hands on my shirt, tucking the knife away and walking out. I’d sleep easy tonight.

………………………...

“Dean,”

I got the sensation of falling.

“Dean,” A hand gripping my shoulder, making me shoot up and reach for the pistol under my pillow. That same hand pulled away and returned back to the lap of it’s owner. I shook off the remnants of sleep, groaning groggily and rubbing at my burning, sleep deprived eyes,

“Cas?” My brain caught up with my mouth, and I jumped when I actually realized it was that jackass sitting in front of me. “Cas!” I threw my arms around him, hugging his slender shoulders and pulling him into me, sure he could feel my startled breathing and heart. Before I realized I had hugged him, as it was just instinct, he hugged back, digging his fingers into the fabric of my t-shirt hard and burying his face in my shoulder, his breathing uneasy and erratic.

This wasn’t an ordinary hug. “Cas?” I pulled backwards from it, “Cas, what’s wrong?”

I could’ve sworn I saw something shining and wet in his eye, but as I blinked it was gone. He smiled, looking down at the comforter on my bed, “Did you know that earth is made entirely of stardust?” He nodded to his own statement, “Yes, and everything on it, the trees, the atmosphere, food, water, the various insects, bees...you. Me, even, I believe.” His gruff voice faltered.

“Cas what the hell are you talking about?”

“Nothing.” His voice was normal, “I heard your prayer. I’m sorry to wake you, Dean.”

“Just now you heard? Cas, I’ve been praying for weeks. What the hell, man?!”

“Dean, there’s just been some-”

“No, Cas, I don’t care. You answer me, dammit!”

He bowed his head, in an all to “your wish is my command” manner, amending, “I know.” He looked different. As my eyes adjusted in the dark I noticed the bags under his eyes looked deeper, and his eyes a little less blue than I remembered, His skin even paler than usual. He caught me looking and gave me a weak smile.

“Cas… What is wrong?”

He stood from the bed suddenly, pacing in his own circle, bringing his hands together and twining his fingers in a thoughtful knot of bones. His trench coat was battered and caked with dirt and what looked like dried blood in some spots, his hair looking just as tousled and weather worn. “Stardust of course begets the question of supernova, which I find fascinating of course that your species still regards as a highly debated topic. It’s simple fact.” This was the weirdest possible thing an angel could say. Being that uh, hello, “GOD CREATED THE UNIVERSE” is basically their only code to live by. He smiled to himself, a sort of sickness in his face, “I, too, once thought that everything was planned out, and… worked.”

I tossed the sheets away from my body, following him over to his pacing circle spot. He looked at me, asking in that rough, deep voice, “Does it scare you, Dean? The complete absence of… guidance?” His voice shook with fear.

“Cas, time to stop smokin’ dope and listening to Pink Floyd.”

“Dean, I haven’t been smo-”

“Shh, yeah, yeah, just look at me.”

He did, and his eyes melted into a plea. “Cas, talk to me buddy.”

His eyebrows drew together and I saw the faint eye glimmer again before he vanished. I gripped the empty space where he’d been standing, growling, “No… dammit, Cas!” My hands balled up into fists, “CAS!” I kicked at the floor and grabbed the pillow sitting on the bed, throwing it hard against the door then collapsing into bed, glaring at the spot he’d been sitting, my fists still balled up tight.

“Dean, what happened?” Sammy poked his bed head through the opened door.

Shit. I forgot it was the middle of the night. “Sorry, nothing… N-nightmare.”

Sam rubbed his face, “Okay… you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, go back to sleep.” Shit. I heard the door close, relieved for a moment before the anger returned. What the hell was Cas even talking about? He looked like hell… something was seriously wrong. Somehow, between angry thoughts, my mind finally let me have a rest.

A figure stood in the corner of the room, watching silently, with a solemn face, listening for the soft hum of Dean Winchester’s rising and falling chest.


End file.
